The actress Melissa McCarthy is starting her own clothing line.
Although she has won an Emmy for Best Actress in the sitcom Mike and Molly and been nominated for an Oscar for Best Supporting Actress in Bridesmaids, finding large clothes is a challenge.
She told Redbook:
“When I go shopping, most of the time I’m disappointed. Two Oscars ago, I couldn’t find anybody to do a dress for me. I asked five or six designers–very high-level ones who make lots of dresses for people — and they all said no.”
It’s obviously discrimination, as is the myth that fat people are unhealthy, trashy, lower-class, etc.
I’ve been a jeans-and-t-shirt kind of girl forever.
I was a runner till I was 48. After I stopped running, the weight piled on.
It is excruciating trying to find clothes in large sizes. Not only would you never wear most of them, but I assure you that few have ever been seen outside the dressing room. There are polka-dotted polyester blouses, the stretch pants that stick unbecomingly to your butt, low-cut polyester tunics made for huge-breasted women, and sweatshirts that say “Grandma” (I’ve never reproduced).
Yup, make you look your worst! That’s the motto.
Fortunately, you can find well-made normal nice clothes for large women in catalogues.
And after buying from a few catalogues, other catalogues arrive in the mail.
Yesterday I received a catalogue called “The Pyramid Collection: Myth, Magick, Fantasy & Romance.” Though fantasy and romance are good in theory, my idea of a romantic evening is to go to Barnes and Noble and buy a couple of paperbacks with my husband. But perhaps I’m not past it, because a man recently gave me romantic advice–“The men love the games”–which made me roar with laughter.
All right, I’m flipping through the catalogue. I’ve rejected a pale green nylon dress called “Tea at the Abbey.” It has”flutter sleeves and a slanted crystal-accented crossover front ruffle.” The tie-dyed halter dress is also out.
And then things start to get strange. Why are there so many corsets? I’m revolted by the “love bite choker.” And, you know, the “Steam Age chic” black velvet hat with a chain and feather looks a little slutty.
Finally we arrive at the “climax” of the catalogue.
It’s called “State of Bliss.”
Two pages of vibrators.
There’s the one you tuck into your “saucy lace briefs,” the “discreet personal massager” that looks like a lipstick, a penis-shaped “hearts-and-glitter-spangled massager,” oh, and a movie called “The Art of Orgasm.”
“Order toll-free any time!”
Not to be a prude or anything, but I’ve thrown this catalogue away.